


Timebomb

by perplexed (orphan_account)



Series: Habits AU [2]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4450586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/perplexed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It was a few weeks before Anthony saw Ian at the club again.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timebomb

**Author's Note:**

> Second part of the Habits AU! More angst, more porn, you know the drill.

It was a few weeks before Anthony saw Ian at the club again. He wondered for a while if he’d scared the other man off entirely, but didn’t dwell on it too much. There were plenty of other good looking guys and girls at the club to hook up with, and with its popularity seemingly surging there was no shortage of new people to take home.

And yet, even three weeks later when Anthony next saw Ian, the other man had stuck in his mind somewhat. It wasn’t that he felt bad for the way he’d treated Ian, because Anthony didn’t think he was capable of feeling anything anymore except loneliness, but something about the other man had anchored deep in the back of his mind, coming to the forefront every so often.

Anthony was sitting in the same chair he always sat in, the black velvet wingback one in a secluded corner where he could observe while mostly staying out of the way, when he spotted Ian sheepishly walk through the door to the room. He even carefully closed the door behind him, which for some reason made Anthony smirk a little bit. Ian was far too gentle and careful to be in a sex club, and for the first time since going there, Anthony found himself wondering what had brought one of the other patrons there.

Was Ian lonely like him? Or was he just there for a good time? Why did he leave it weeks between his first appearance and this one? Anthony downed the remainder of his wine in one gulp, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and placed the glass on the end table next to the chair before standing up and making his way over to Ian who, through a lack of available seating, was standing with his back to the wall, his hands folded in front of him.

Standing in front of Ian, who was staring intently at the floor and didn’t notice Anthony until the taller man had his hand resting against the wall next to his head, Anthony quirked his lips into his finest smirk and raised an eyebrow.

“You never called me,” Ian said quietly, barely audible over the music thumping through the speakers. The smirk dropped from Anthony’s mouth and, vaguely, he could remember crumpling up the note Ian must have left him.

“I don’t do calling my hook ups,” Anthony murmured in response. ‘Because I get too attached,’ he added mentally. “If I bump into you here again, that’s one thing, but calling? I don’t do that.”

“Oh.” Ian sounded as defeated as he looked. He was scuffing one foot back and forth on the wooden floor, still staring down at his shoes. Anthony reminded himself not to feel bad, that it was just a one night stand, before turning his lips into a smirk again.

“Want to get out of here again?” Anthony offered, not expecting Ian to solemnly nod and lift his head, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. “Good, let’s go.”

\---

This time, Anthony thought to flick the lights on in his hallway when he shoved Ian against the wall and shut the door behind them. Ian was pretty enough to look at with the lights on, Anthony had decided. Ian seemed like he had a different vibe than before, like he was even more apprehensive and careful. His arm curled around Anthony’s waist and Anthony made eye contact with him at that, raising an eyebrow.

“Bit affectionate, aren’t you?” Anthony decided to call him out on it, letting out a puff of laughter down his nose.

“What’s wrong with that?” Ian murmured, but he pulled his arm away nonetheless.

“Nothing, if you’re not just fucking, I guess.” Anthony shrugged and lifted his hands to unbutton Ian’s shirt, peeling it off the other man’s shoulders and dropping it to the floor.

Ian stayed silent at that, ducking his head instead and mouthing at Anthony’s neck like he was trying to hide his face. Anthony just mentally shrugged and went back to undressing Ian, unbuttoning his jeans and tugging them down to Ian’s knees, letting them drop the rest of the way.

Stepping out of his jeans, Ian breathed against Anthony’s neck and made goosebumps rise over Anthony’s body. Ian kept his hands at his sides for a lack of anything else to do with them. It was clear that he preferred Anthony to take control, perhaps even more so than he had the last time they’d met.

Anthony pulled back from Ian and motioned to his bedroom with his free hand, as his other set about undoing the buttons of his own shirt. Ian walked through, keeping his head submissively ducked. Anthony shed his own clothes down to his boxers on the way down the hallway.

By the time he got to his bedroom, Ian was standing awkwardly next to the bed, his hands folded in front of him again like he was awaiting instruction. Anthony threw himself back on the bed and rearranged the pillows as though Ian wasn’t even there, before beckoning to the other man finally.

Ian straightened his shoulders back and walked the few steps to the bed. He hesitated, like he was wondering what to do next, before climbing onto the end of the bed and laying with his head on Anthony’s hip. Anthony raised an eyebrow - usually his one night stands didn’t care enough to bother with foreplay, but Ian seemed to be different from them anyway, in many ways.

His hand coming up to rub at Anthony through his boxers, Ian kept his gaze away from Anthony’s, seemingly not wanting to meet his eyes. Anthony wasn’t about to make him look at him, instead deciding to tuck one of his hands behind his head while the other tapped at the duvet impatiently. While Ian mouthed at the head of his hardening length, Anthony let out a small sigh, though he didn’t even know himself if that was out of relief, contentment or irritation at Ian’s slow pace.

Ian chanced a glance up at Anthony, who locked eyes with him for what seemed like an eternity. Taking a shaky little breath, Ian pulled the front of Anthony’s boxers down just enough to lick from the base to the tip of his cock in one long, languid stroke of his tongue. Once he reached the tip, Ian sucked Anthony into his mouth, leaving Anthony to moan dumbly at the action. Through all of his hook ups, he’d almost forgotten how incredible oral could feel, and the velvet warmth of Ian’s mouth took him by surprise.

Keeping his eyes off Anthony’s again and averting his gaze, Ian sucked gently, bobbing his head slowly. Unlike Anthony, every move he made seemed to have some kind of purpose and meaning to it, and Anthony noticed that as he watched Ian closely. One of Ian’s hands came up to cup Anthony’s balls, fingers rolling them around carefully, while his other wedged itself beneath his own body and worked its way into his boxers.

Swallowing as he pulled off Anthony’s cock with a slick, small ‘pop’, Ian glanced up at Anthony and sighed quietly, but it sounded more content than annoyed to Anthony, who was quickly getting bored with the slow pace Ian was settling. In a bold gesture, Anthony wound his fingers into Ian’s hair and tugged firmly.

“Are you gonna stay there all night, or are we gonna fuck?” Anthony asked offhandedly, fighting the urge to frown at his own actions and words. Ian just seemed to want something slower and more caring than Anthony could provide him with, and the idea of being not good enough poured into Anthony’s mind and veins, making his heart feel like small barbs were digging into it.

“Sorry,” Ian mumbled, freeing up both of his hands so he could push himself up until he was kneeling. Anthony went to grab Ian’s wrist with the hand that had been in his hair, but instead he grabbed at his hand. Ian blushed bright, beetroot red and went to link their fingers together, only for Anthony to pull his hand away sharply. Ian looked hurt at that. The shorter man furrowed his brows together and pressed his lips into a line, as though he was trying desperately not to cry.

Anthony had to stop himself from rolling his eyes openly, but instead just closed them and let out a huff.

“Come here. And take your boxers off, too,” he said simply, watching as Ian did as he was bid to. Ian straddled Anthony’s hips when his boxers were off, one of his hands lowering to Anthony’s length and stroking slowly, one, two, three times.

Anthony, deep down, felt terrible. He felt so bad about his own emotionally stunted ways that he almost didn’t want to fuck Ian at all, but of course, he wasn’t there for counselling or feelings, he was there for a quick fuck, even if he did have to sometimes remind himself of that. Anthony picked up the lube that was sitting on the nightstand along with a condom, tossing them in Ian’s direction.

Ian caught them, but looked at them uselessly for a few moments before struggling to uncap the lube. He poured some onto his fingers and crooked his hand behind himself, prepping himself quickly and carelessly, in a contrast to his actions where Anthony was concerned. If Anthony hadn’t been so high he might have noticed that, but at that moment he was more concerned with just getting laid than Ian’s internal politics about his self-worth.

Wiping his hand off on the sheets, Ian then fumbled to open the condom, his hands feeling as numb as the rest of him as he rolled it onto Anthony and sat back for a second so he could take a deep breath. The room smelled of sex and weed, and Ian thought for a second about how he kind of wished he was as high as Anthony before snapping back to reality when Anthony clapped a hand on his thigh.

“Come on,” Anthony urged, and Ian drew another long breath as he knelt up, over Anthony’s cock. After curling his hand around the base of Anthony’s length, Ian lowered himself onto it, giving a little grunt of satisfaction as he sank down. “God,” Anthony breathed, his voice low in his chest. Ian ground his hips down against Anthony and let out a small moan, one of his hands resting on Anthony’s stomach while the other curled up the other man’s body, resting on the side of his neck.

While he was (mostly) in control of the situation, Ian thought he’d lean down and kiss Anthony like he desperately wanted to, but Anthony successfully dodged his attempt at tenderness by shifting his head around on the pillow.

“I told you, I don’t do kisses on the mouth.” Anthony frowned when Ian leaned back, his brows furrowed. He kept moving his hips, placing both of his hands on Anthony’s chest, opening his mouth uselessly a couple of times before he got any words out.

“Why?” Ian asked simply. Anthony thought for a few long moments about whether or not to tell the truth. He was adamant that his one night stand wasn’t going to turn into a counselling session, but Ian seemed to be too meek to instigate any serious conversations, and what was the use in lying anyway?

“Too romantic. Too attached.” As if to contrast his admission, Anthony gripped Ian’s hips tightly, digging his nails into the soft skin and using his grip to rock Ian back and forth. His surprise tactic must have worked, because Ian’s plump lips just fell open in a moan and the other man made no attempt to engage in further discussion.

It only took a few more moments for Ian to come with Anthony thrusting up into him and rocking his hips back and forth, messy and uncoordinated. Anthony followed him shortly after, and instead of climbing off Anthony like the other man had done to him a few weeks ago, Ian slowly pulled Anthony from inside him and lay down on top of the other man, head on his chest.

Anthony made as if he was going to push Ian off of him, but stilled his hands and rolled his eyes. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in annoyance, one of his hands reaching for an already rolled joint on his nightstand and his lighter. He lit it, and Ian looked up at him with watery eyes, looking almost sad.

“What?” Anthony asked, and Ian shook his head, averting his gaze to the pile of dirty laundry on a chair in the corner instead. He cuddled closer still, even as Anthony was reaching over to flick his ash into his overflowing ashtray. “Why are you so keen on fucking… Cuddling up to me like we’re dating or some shit?”

“Just… I…” Ian closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “Just let me. Please?”

“Whatever. Just be gone by morning again.” Anthony took a long drag from his joint and exhaled slowly. He knew he was being cold, but the last thing he wanted was to fall for this stupid, beautiful man, because that only ended in getting hurt, right? It always did.

“Okay.” Ian exhaled and held his hand out for the joint. Anthony was surprised, but handed it over anyway, watching as Ian took two drags in quick succession and then started to cough. Anthony smirked as Ian handed it back.

“You get used to it,” he murmured, once again ashing his joint into the ashtray. They lay in silence, Ian’s one hand coming up to brush almost lovingly over Anthony’s side, his fingers tracing circular patterns on the warm, sticky skin.

Anthony leaned over to put the joint out, flicking the lamp off before retracting his arm.

\---

At some point in the night, Anthony swore Ian kissed him, just gently, barely enough to register and wake him. He woke with a start anyway, but Ian was still lying over him, hand resting lightly on his stomach.

\---

When Anthony woke up, he was pissed off for two reasons. One being that it was before noon, and the other being that Ian was still curled up on him, sleeping soundly. He had his regular morning headache, and felt like his mouth was drier than the desert. With a shove, one that was comparatively gentle to how annoyed he felt, Anthony moved Ian off him and got up.

He tugged on the same boxers he’d worn the night before, rearranging himself before walking to the kitchen to get some water and Advil. On the way, he heard Ian moving in the bedroom, and he hoped that the other man was getting ready to leave.

“Morning,” Ian mumbled when he entered the kitchen, dressed in just his boxers and oblivious to Anthony’s annoyance at his presence. Anthony was sitting on the counter with a joint in his mouth, a box of cereal in his hands which he was lazily crunching on.

“Why are you still here?” Anthony asked, his tone sharp and acidic. Ian stilled in the middle of the kitchen and pressed his lips together, taking a couple of short, panicky breaths.

“I just thought…”

“You thought nothing. You’re here, and I told you not to be. Why?”

“I’ll leave,” Ian said simply, before turning on his heels and taking a deep, shaky breath. “Can I at least shower before I go?”

“Yeah. Just be gone in half an hour.”

Forty minutes passed before Anthony went to check on Ian, standing outside the bathroom door with his ear against the door. Beneath the sound of the shower, Anthony could hear Ian crying, and his stomach dropped low into his torso, making him feel sick.

He hadn’t intended to make Ian upset, not to the point where he was reduced to tears. Tentatively, Anthony knocked on the door and heard a loud sniffle, followed by a deep huff.

“I’m coming, I’m nearly done,” Ian said. His voice sounded thick with tears and only served to make Anthony feel even worse.

“Are you… Okay?” Anthony asked, the words feeling unnatural coming from his mouth.

“I’m fine, why would you ask?” The shower shut off, and Anthony could hear Ian moving on the other side of the door.

“I could hear you, you know. I’m not stupid, I know what crying sounds like.”

Silence fell then, until Ian opened the door. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and he all but barged past Anthony into the hallway.

“Are you alright?” Anthony asked, and Ian let out a small laugh.

“What do you care if I’m not?” Ian spat back. He folded his arms across his chest when Anthony looked him up and down.

“I…” Anthony couldn’t answer that one. Did he care? Yes, probably more than he should have and more than he wanted to. Did he want to admit that to Ian? Not particularly.  
“See? Told you, you don’t give even half of a shit.”

Ian turned tail and walked through to the bedroom, where he picked up his phone, wallet and keys from where they’d fallen from his pockets onto the floor. Pushing past Anthony, who felt conflicted beyond belief, Ian gave him a look akin to the kind a kicked puppy would give to its owner.

“See you around,” Ian said simply, and Anthony found himself reaching out for Ian’s hand as the other man went to open the door.

“Don’t.” ‘What the fuck are you doing, Anthony?’ he thought to himself, ‘You promised no feelings, but here you are, trying to stop someone from leaving. Again.’

“Why should I stay? An hour ago you were scowling and shit because I was still here!” Ian pulled his hand away from Anthony’s. “Don’t act like you give a shit when you can’t even find it in yourself to kiss someone, or find out where they live, or what they do, or anything about them. I’m shocked you even found time to get to know my name.”

Anthony stood there dumbfounded. He hadn’t expected such an outburst from Ian, let alone such a scathing one which cut right to the bone. He watched as Ian took a breath and wiped at his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“Stop acting like you care,” Ian murmured. Anthony didn’t try to stop him when he made to leave that time, instead just letting Ian go.


End file.
